


I Will Stand With You

by BonfireSmoke



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 05:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonfireSmoke/pseuds/BonfireSmoke
Summary: Sherlock's being a little shit like usual and everyone is mad at him, except John.





	I Will Stand With You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanwork that I've shared ever, please be nice.  
> Constructive criticism is helpful though

It was a crime scene, a murder, Sherlock’s favorite. Of course, he was being an insufferable git as always. John stood behind him, shaking his head at his boyfriends antics. “Lestrade you idiot! It’s obvious! She was killed by a fatal head injury, not even a proper murder! You keep dangling 8s in front of me, when in reality it’s no more than a 2.”  
Sherlock was going on and on about how it was obvious, and antagonizing everyone around him in the process.  
“Just get to the bloody point!” Donovin shouted. “Freak.”  
Sherlock brushed off the insult, at least, he seemed too.  
“She was weight lifting, and one of the heavier weights came up and hit her in the head, see? She must’ve gotten a concussion and didn’t realize it. She went to sleep and never woke up. BORING! Lestrade, don’t call me again until you have a proper case please. Come, John, lets go.”  
“Oh, so that’s bloody it, is it? Just breeze in, call my team idiots, then breeze back out? Apologize.” Lestrade fixed Sherlock with a look. Anderson laughed quietly.  
“The freak doesn’t know how to apologize,” he muttered under his breath.  
John caught the shiver that ran through Sherlock, however minute it was. Sherlock was upset.  
“I’m not going to apologize. Come on John, lets go.” Sherlock breezed back out.  
“I’m sorry ‘bout him,” John shrugged, “what can you do. See you Greg.”

______________________________________________________

Back at the flat, John tried to corner Sherlock, and ask him what’s up. “Sherlock, love, what the hell’s wrong?”  
“Brilliant!” Sherlock shouted from where he was perched on the couch, looking at a computer. “Molly has some feet for me. Be back soon, John.”  
“Sherlock is that my bloody computer!”  
Sherlock got back about a half hour later, looking downcast and without the feet. “John?” He called softly  
“What do you want, Sherlock.” John looked up from his book, to see Sherlock looking down at his shoes.  
“Nothing.” Sherlock breezed by, and went to change. John just rolled his eyes. His boyfriend would tell him when he was damn ready and not a minute sooner.  
John went to go to sleep a few hours later, but hadn’t even pulled up the covers before Sherlock waltzed in, smelling of death and covered in mud and Thames.  
“Sherlock did you fall into the bloody Thames?” John put his head in his hands. “You know what, I don’t want to know. Go take a shower and put your clothes in the laundry. Don’t come back until you don’t smell like shit.”  
“Of course, John.” Sherlock breezed by, “I’ll see you in the morning, I don’t anticipate sleeping tonight.” John just rolled his eyes, and burrowed back into the soft warmth of the bed.

 

______________________________________________________

The next morning, John woke up to an empty bed and the smell of rotting flesh. He groaned softly to himself as he heaved out of bed. It was too early for this.  
“Sherlock that smell’d better not be what I think it is!”  
“Well John, if you believe that the smell is that of rotting hands, then I’m afraid you’re correct.” Sherlock stood over one of the feet, and as John went to the microwave,  
“There’s a mouse in the bloody microwave. Sherlock, what the hell!”  
“I found the mouse behind the refrigerator, and it seemed like a good place to put it.”  
“You don’t put dead mice in the microwave, you put them in the trash, or better yet, outside! Some days I really don’t understand what goes on in that head of yours.”  
John grabbed the mouse by its’ tail, and plunked it in the trash. “I’m going to the store. I want the hands gone when I get back.” John grabbed his coat, and left the flat, shutting the door loudly on his way out.  
______________________________________________________

John got back a few hours later to the feet gone, and Sherlock in their bed with a thoughtful look on his face.  
“Everyone seems mad at me today John, it’s interesting.”  
“Why’s that?”  
“Because, you’re the only person I’ve spoken to today that’s been even remotely nice to me.”  
“Oh Sherlock, that’s because I love you.”  
“Yes, but why?”  
“I don’t know, it’s a lot of things.”  
“Everyone hates me. I just give off that aura.”  
“Well, even when the world is against you, I’ll be here. I promise.”


End file.
